some scenes from a show
by Cora Clavia
Summary: Sometimes, the backstage stories are just as good as the one in the script. Sam/Jack, AU.


a/n: italicized lines between sections come from the real show

* * *

_let's start at the very beginning_

* * *

"Cast list is up."

Jack shifted his phone to his left ear, grabbing a towel to wipe sawdust off his hands. "And?"

"Congratulations, Captain von Trapp."

Jack grinned. "Thanks. Charlie in?"

"Yep, he's Kurt." Daniel paused. "Your son is…your son."

"Great." Charlie would be thrilled. "What about you?"

"Uncle Max, of course. What I expected."

"So who's Maria?"

"I don't remember. Some name I didn't recognize." Daniel stopped to murmur something to someone on the other end of the phone. "I have to go. See you tomorrow night."

* * *

_a very good place to start_

* * *

Jack and his son walked into Stargate Community Theater the next night to find part of the cast already there, the stage littered with wooden planks, costume racks lining the hallways by the dressing rooms.

The crowd was a little chaotic, but Jack smiled as he saw the director. "Hey, George. Good to see you."

"Hello, Jack." Hammond smiled. "Good to have you back. And Charlie, son, how are you?"

"Fine, Mr. Hammond."

Charlie ran over to the corner where the other few children were sitting, obviously the other Von Trapp siblings. Jack recognized Cassie, one of Charlie's classmates; judging by age, she was probably cast as Brigitta. She brightened as Charlie plopped down in the chair beside her, and the two of them immediately fell into animated conversation.

"How's he doing?"

"Charlie?" Jack followed Hammond's gaze. "He's doing fine. School's good, baseball's out of season for now. He's excited to be here."

"I'm glad." George paused, looking over Jack's shoulder. "Ah, there she is. I was hoping she'd be in early."

"Who?"

"Your future wife," George chuckled.

Jack turned to see a blonde woman walking down the aisle, motorcycle helmet under one arm. She looks around, clearly not recognizing anyone, until George waved to her and she smiled, striding across the stage to join them.

Hammond beamed, waving a hand between them. "Jack, this is Samantha Carter. Sam, Jack O'Neill. Captain von Trapp, Maria. Maria, Captain von Trapp."

"Hi." Her handshake was firm. "Nice to meet you."

"Same."

* * *

_for all I want of living_

* * *

Sam paged slowly through her script.

As hesitant as she was to try out for the production, she was glad Janet talked her into it. Moving to Colorado was a big step, and apart from Janet, she hardly knew anyone outside of work. But so far, the Stargate Community Theater had proved to be a lot of fun.

Her co-star walked in a moment later, script in hand, and gave her a mock-salute as he dropped into a chair nearby.

Jack O'Neill wasn't what she'd expected.

Not that he wasn't talented; he had a natural authority about him, perfect to play the legendary Austrian naval captain. But sitting there in his worn jeans, a faded flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, more than one day's worth of scruff on his jaw, he looked more like he'd come to build the set than to star in the show.

"All right, Captain. Maria." Hammond flipped through the vocal score. "Let's hear 'Ordinary Couple.'"

This wasn't a song she knew well; it wasn't in the movie version, and she'd only just listened to it recently. But she liked it. It was the right kind of cute for musical theater.

Walter, the rehearsal accompanist, flipped through his music and started playing. The song was a quick run-through, and Hammond seemed relieved at how quickly they both got through their parts. Sam scanned the part, marking a few notes with her pencil.

"You two kiss right here," Hammond mentioned absently as Walter played through the interlude. Sam chanced a look at Jack and found him watching her, his brown eyes bright.

Maybe she was imagining it, but the way he was looking at her –

She flushed, looking back down at her music.

It was all theater, right?

* * *

_a dream that will need all the love you can give_

* * *

"All right, Captain von Trapp. Just hold still and I'll try not to stick you."

Janet set to work on his costume, pinching seams and tugging at his cuffs. Jack stood as still as possible. Charlie, sitting nearby, grinned at him, and Jack made a face.

After a long few minutes of fussing, Janet sat back on her heels.

"Actually, it's not too bad," she said slowly, eyeing the hemline. "Just a few tucks on the side, fixing the hem, but the shoulders look good. Usually that's the tricky part."

"Good."

She patted his shoulder. "Just let me mark everything, and I'll get you out of here."

* * *

He finally escaped costuming and headed for the house, dropping into an empty seat. A minute later, Sam settled beside him, script in her lap. "Costumes done?"

"For now." Janet would insist on many fittings. And glare at him if it seemed like his measurements had changed so much as a millimeter.

They fell silent, watching as George herded the kids onstage to run through their song for the Baroness. Laura, the high school girl playing Liesl, had yet to figure out the guitar; she could play a chord, but then she had to stop and scrutinize all six strings before finding the next one, which made for slow going.

"Poor kid," Sam says finally. "She must be nervous."

"Yeah. She was in _Fiddler_ last year – she subbed in for the bottle dance, since she's a great dancer – and when the bottle fell off her hat, she almost cried onstage." Jack remembered trying not to wince as the poor girl sniffled her way through the end of the dance sequence, hair tucked up in her hat, fake mustache dangerously close to falling off.

Sam laughed at that. "You do these shows every year?"

"Pretty much," he shrugged. "It's mostly off-season from Charlie's baseball league, and the schoolyear isn't too busy yet, so the timing works out."

"How did you get started in musical theater?"

"Charlie's mom." At her questioning look, Jack went on. "They would always do it together, ever since he was tiny. It was kind of their special thing, you know? She died a few years ago, and I didn't want him to lose something he loved, so I figured I'd give it a shot."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, eyes wide.

"It's been good for him," Jack said. "And it's nice to have something we can do together."

Sam fell silent for a moment, watching the kids onstage. Jack took a long breath. The memories were still there, tucked in with the sorrow, and seeing his son bounding around the stage with his bright smile and Sarah's eyes made it all worthwhile.

Sam finally leaned towards him, speaking softly in his ear with a gentle voice.

"I think that's wonderful. You're a great dad."

He swallowed hard, and if his fingers tangled with hers in search of unspoken comfort, no one noticed.

* * *

_if I can be of help_

* * *

Jack was searching for Charlie, but instead of running around the scene shop causing trouble, he found his son…sitting quietly?

Charlie and Cassie sat side-by-side at a table in the lobby, textbooks and loose-leaf paper in front of them, and Sam was with them, patiently explaining something.

"…so anyway," he heard her saying as he walked closer, "that's it. Long division really isn't so bad. Just kind of tedious. But the better you get, the faster it goes."

"Huh." Cassie squinted at her page. "It didn't make this much sense in class."

"Sometimes it helps to look at it a different way," Sam explained.

He stood frozen in the doorway, his heart in his throat for absolutely no good reason at a sight that was so utterly normal and domestic and _simple_ that it hit him hard, but then of course Charlie happened to glance up. "Hey, Dad."

Sam turned to see him, and he swallowed, trying to shake off the strange, maudlin emotions conflicting in his chest. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Math," Cassie told him, setting down her pencil.

"This is homework?"

Charlie nodded. "Sam explained that if we get it done now, we don't have to do it later."

Jack blinked, staring at the three of them, and suddenly dropped to one knee, reaching for Sam's hand before she could react.

She froze. "What are you doing?"

"Marry me."

Her eyes went wide. "Sorry, what?"

"My son is doing his math homework. Voluntarily. You can make it happen every day, forever."

She huffed out a soft laugh, patting his hand. "Let's take it one step at a time."

* * *

_I don't suppose I'm used to dancing_

* * *

"All right, folks. We're starting the _Laendler_." Vala, the choreographer, pushed Sam closer to Jack. "You may as well practice it with everyone else, lovelies. We can work out your specific blocking later. Couples together, please."

Vala taught at a blistering pace, and Sam found herself concentrating hard just to keep up. In no time flat, they'd gone through the whole sequence.

And of _course_ Jack was a good dance partner. He was clearly accustomed to Vala's breakneck work speed; he kept up, his frame tall and strong, and he turned her with the practiced ease of experience, his touch gentle and sure.

It all went fine until the moment their hands met above their heads, faces just inches apart, and Sam suddenly realized she was looking at his lips, and all it would take –

"Very good!" Vala clapped delightedly. "Yes, yes. Very nice. Let's go from the bridge again, shall we?"

Sam let go of Jack's hand, taking an instinctive step back, swallowing hard. "I need to get a drink, okay?"

He seemed confused, like he could tell she was flustered, but he nodded. "Sure."

She fled to the drinking fountain backstage, splashing cold water on her face before taking a deep breath and heading back to her dance partner.

* * *

_and there's no way to stop it_

* * *

After watching Liesl and Franz stumble their way through "Sixteen Going On Seventeen" yet again, George turned to Jack and Sam. "Can you two go walk through the blocking for 'Ordinary Couple' in the lobby? I think these kids are going to need some more work. I'll send someone to get you when we're ready."

"Sure thing, George." Jack stood, following Sam as she turned to leave the house. He hurried to catch up, opening the door for her, a hand at her back.

It was easy with him. Too easy.

But it was harmless, right? There was no reason she couldn't handle a little crush on a fellow actor. He was hot, and talented, and sweet, and he had an adorable son. He was probably used to it.

As the door shut behind them, leaving her and Jack alone in the quiet half-light of the auditorium's lobby, she let out a breath. She couldn't help but laugh at herself a little.

_You're a grown woman with a master's degree in chemical engineering, and you're nervous about kissing a cute boy._

She was grateful for the privacy, though. First kisses didn't need an audience. Even if, in the end, they were _for _an audience.

At first, it was exactly what she'd expected.

They moved a few chairs, dragged out a bench, recreated the gazebo set as well as possible. Normal. Easy. Without a piano, they murmured their way through the text, humming snippets of melody when the silence got too weird.

She'd been simultaneously anticipating and dreading the moment she'd have to kiss him, her mind worked up in knots, and then when it was finally time, she almost missed it. Her music dropped to the floor, and she was so distracted that the touch of his hand on her cheek caught her completely off-guard.

She looked up, startled, to find his eyes on her, soft and warm, and then he was leaning in and she shut her eyes.

It was soft, delicate as a flower, perfect and chaste and light. His lips were softer than she'd expected, and the tension that had been creeping through her chest melted, leaving a pleasant, delicious weakness flooding her body.

The kiss was a perfect stage kiss, and it ended right when it should.

But then.

Instead of pulling away when the song would demand it, letting the scene end naturally, Jack looked her in the eye, took a breath, and kissed her again.

And this – oh.

_Oh_.

This was no stage kiss.

Sam let out a shuddering breath, sinking against him, every point of contact between their bodies electric. He explored her mouth carefully, one kiss, two, three, his tongue slipping over her lips and stroking gently against hers.

She pressed one hand to his chest, feeling the quick thread of his heartbeat under the soft, worn flannel. He was warm, and the knowledge that his heart was pounding as much as hers loosened something inside her, something that kept resisting the idea of this attraction blossoming into something real.

She buried her fingers in his hair and something snapped. The kiss went from gentle to needy in seconds, and she found herself backed against a wall, moaning into his mouth as his hips ground against hers, her body hot and desperate and wanting.

A door creaked nearby, and they sprang apart as Walter's voice floated through the lobby. "Jack? Sam? You here?"

Jack recovered faster. "Uh – yeah, we're here."

"George says he's ready for you."

"We'll be right there," she managed, running a hand through her hair, wiping her mouth, hurriedly trying to straighten her shirt, like she wasn't just making out with someone in a deserted corner of an empty lobby.

"Sam –"

"We have to go."

She fled to the safety of the house, not daring to look back at him for fear she'd be drawn back in and forget everything else.

* * *

And then they ran through the song onstage, with an audience.

Jack paused for just a moment, searching her eyes before he leaned in to kiss her. This kiss was polite and careful, closed mouths and respectful hands.

There was the usual wolf-whistle or two from the rest of the cast, but Sam didn't find herself even blushing, because suddenly it didn't feel quite so scandalous.

* * *

They were halfway home when Charlie looked at Jack. "Dad, is it weird kissing Sam?"

Jack froze for a moment, but relaxed. Right. The show. The kiss in the script. The one that wasn't real.

"What do you mean?"

"She's really nice. But is it weird kissing someone you're not in love with?"

Jack gripped the wheel carefully.

"It's just part of the show, buddy. We make sure we're respecting each other."

Charlie lost interest, staring out the window, while Jack drove the rest of the way home and wondered exactly what the hell happened in that lobby.

* * *

_when the Captain couldn't keep his eyes off you_

* * *

Janet had asked Sam to come in early before the next rehearsal – _so help me, this wedding dress is going to fit properly if I have to staple it to you_ – so sure enough, Sam found herself standing on a box, arms up as Janet re-fitted the waistline.

"It's better," Janet murmured through a mouthful of pins. "Not perfect, but better."

"Good."

There came a quick tap at the door, and Janet pulled the pins out of her mouth. "Come in."

Jack leaned in, his eyes lighting up as he saw her, and Sam was mortified to feel warmth flooding her cheeks. Because it was just yesterday he backed her up against the wall and –

"Hammond wants to know if you're almost done here."

"A few more minutes," Janet told him. "I'll send her out."

"Right." He paused. "Nice dress, by the way."

The door shut behind him, and instead of continuing, Janet stopped, eyeing Sam suspiciously. "Is there something going on here?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Sam. You two have crazy good chemistry. Everyone can see it."

"It's called acting, Janet."

"Uh-huh. Right." Janet didn't look convinced. "So the way he looks at you when you're offstage – is _that_ just acting, too?"

"What?" What the hell was Janet talking about? "Whatever it is, it's nothing."

Janet folded her arms. "Nothing. Right. And you're blushing."

"This dress is too warm." Sam shook her head. "Could we please finish? George wants me out there."

* * *

_I thought I just might find you here_

* * *

At a loss for where else to go for peace and quiet, Sam found herself on the bench in the empty lobby. Faint music drifted in from the house, but at least she could breathe.

"Hi."

She looked up to find Jack standing nearby, hands in his pockets.

In retrospect, she probably should have expected this to be the first place he'd look.

"Hey."

He rocked back on his heels, looking around. "Can we talk?"

"Of course."

Jack sat on the bench beside her – close enough to touch, but far enough to give her a bit of space. "Look" – he hesitated – "if I – made you uncomfortable yesterday, I'm sorry. I didn't mean –"

"No – no, nothing like that." Sam took a deep breath, staring at the carpet. "It just – caught me off-guard, you know?"

"Same here."

She chose her next words very carefully. No reason she needed to lay bare all the personal reasons she left Washington, after all. "I just – I was in a bad relationship before I moved here. It didn't end well."

"So you came here for a fresh start?"

"That was part of it." She blinks, shaking her head to push back the memories of Jonas, the harsh words, the night she left the apartment because she knew what he'd do if she stayed. The weeks she spent on her brother's couch. "It's not that I don't like you. I just – didn't expect something like this. Not so fast."

She didn't know how to put words to the tight sense of panic that had seized up her chest. She wasn't ready for the flush of desire. It was just too much, too fast. Last time she'd stumbled into _too much too fast_, it had ended with her leaving Washington.

"I understand."

Sam smiled at him ruefully. "I'm not trying to make it complicated, I promise."

"It doesn't have to be complicated. I like you. My son likes you." He shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters. Anything else can come later."

She looked up to find him watching her with gentle eyes. And that was it – the physical attraction burned bright, but the soft, humming warmth of affection was even more dangerous, a steady glow that brought her right back to him.

"Can we" – what was she even trying to say? – "maybe – we just take it slow? See what happens?"

"Yeah. We can do slow."

Jack held out a hand, and after a moment, she took it, relishing the warmth. Her hand felt small in his, delicate, feminine, and if nothing else, it just felt so good to _trust_.

"You want to go back in?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Vala's had way too much coffee, and she's teaching the dance for 'Lonely Goatherd.' I think we can bet on it being hilarious to watch."

Sam grinned. "Sounds good."

They walked back into the auditorium together, shoulders brushing, and sat together, watching as Vala bounced around the stage, talking a mile a minute. The air between them was easier now, the thread of discomfort replaced with calm and certainty.

She hadn't felt this happy in a long, long time.

* * *

_a little odd but charming_

* * *

And then it was fine.

After talking, Jack found, Sam was more relaxed. She still spent breaks helping all seven of the von Trapp children with their math homework – even Liesl, who was floundering with her calculus assignments – and when Jack suggested she might be an excellent governess in real life, she'd just shrugged, her eyes sparkling.

But though they'd never talked about it directly, they were always together. _Always. _He was happy to give her space, but every time he was out in the house, watching someone else's rehearsal, Sam ended up sitting beside him, poring over a shared script or vocal score, or muffling laughter together when Vala went off on an unintelligible tangent.

One night, as Jack sat in a chair, waiting for the nuns to finish singing, Daniel shuffled up behind him. "Hey."

"Hey, Daniel." Daniel Jackson was profoundly well-suited to playing Uncle Max. Jack was fairly sure he wasn't even acting most of the time. "Looking good so far."

"Thanks." Daniel wiped his glasses, blinking at the stage. "Hey, Sam is awesome, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Uh-huh." Daniel replaced his glasses. "You guys are really good together. Just so you know."

"Right." Jack wasn't sure how to respond to that. Daniel could be hard to figure out sometimes. And asking _good together onstage or off?_ would probably give away more than he wanted.

"I was kind of expecting Kerry to be Maria," Daniel admitted. "And don't get me wrong, she's great. But I think Sam's better."

"Kerry's a great Baroness," Jack pointed out.

"Yep." Daniel nodded slowly. "Good cast this year."

Daniel wandered off soon afterwards, leaving Jack not entirely sure what just happened, but at least it was positive, right?

* * *

_these are a few of my favorite things_

* * *

Sam loved the costumes.

Janet was a wizard, even on a shoestring budget. When the curtain rose on the first dress rehearsal of the party scene, Sam caught her breath for a moment, because it was perfect, the entire cast whirling in the glitter and elegance of opulent 1930's Austria.

She stood backstage, waiting for her entrance, when she heard Jack's footsteps behind her, and she turned to see him walking up in his tuxedo, tall and handsome, the red-and-white ribbon of the (fake) Maria Theresa cross around his neck. Her mouth went dry.

Even in the darkness of backstage, she could see his eyes brighten. "You look beautiful," he murmured.

"Thanks." Her dress was one of Janet's personal creations, a soft blue dress that matched her eyes and twirled when she danced. "I like the tux."

"_Shhhhhhhhh_," the stage manager hissed. Jack winced.

"Sorry."

"Quiet."

Paul went back to his script, pencil following the lines, and Sam bit her lip, looking at Jack, who didn't look particularly embarrassed to be shushed like a kid.

Instead of talking, he just reached for her hand, twining his fingers through hers, and Sam let herself lean into his shoulder.

They'd be dancing together in minutes, but somehow, this felt even more intimate.

* * *

_we're keeping romance alive_

* * *

Before Sam knew it, opening night arrived.

In her tiny dressing room, she sat in front of the mirror, stage makeup and bobby pins and hairspray scattered around her. She could hear the chatter of chorus members outside, and it matched the soft, keyed-up hum of her nerves: pleasantly aware, but not really scared.

There was a tap at her door, and Sam tugged her dressing gown closed over her underwear. Janet had promised to come do her makeup. "Come in."

But it wasn't Janet who walked in. It was Jack.

"Hi," she breathed. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

He shrugged. "I will. Just wanted to wish you good luck." He paused. "And…give you this."

From behind his back, Jack produced a tiny bouquet of miniature roses tied with gold ribbon. The blossoms were small and delicate, rich gold tipped with pink, and Sam gasped.

"Jack. They're beautiful." She rubbed one silky petal between her fingers. "I love them."

"Charlie says break a leg," he explained. "And so do I."

Sam beamed up at him, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was just _inevitable_, but she stood. Took a step towards him. Took his face in her palms and pulled him down for a kiss.

He kissed her back gently, and the rush of butterflies in her stomach had absolutely nothing to do with the crowd waiting to watch the show.

When Sam pulled away, she couldn't stop herself from smiling. Neither, it seemed, could Jack.

"All right, Fräulein." He kissed her one more time, light and soft. "See you on the other side."


End file.
